It's 4am and the alarm clock has gone off, and once again I'm wondering why I'm getting up well before the crack of dawn for another trail run. What's even more insane is that I haven't even registered for the race yet. It'd be soooo easy just to go back to sleep, but no, I've committed to running the 25k and then volunteering at the 3rd aid station afterwards for the 50k runners. I switch on the TV to see where the storms are; yesterday's forecast was for thunderstorms to start around Huntsville from 4am onwards, with temperatures around 70'F. Radar shows gentle rain to the west of I45, the road between us in Houston and Huntsville, moving eastwards! It looks as if we'll get wet, it remains to be seen how wet. Just after 4:35am we leave home. Karen, my dear wife, is driving. She's going to volunteer too - weather permitting J. It's just over an hours drive to the park. About half way there we see the lightening off to the west getting nearer and nearer, and as we enter the park it's gently raining. I go and sign up and get ready for the race and the 7 am start. Around 6:45, I wander down to the lodge and it's now raining much harder with lots of water streaming down the roadway. Sunrise is supposed to be about now, but it's still very, very dark. Looking across the lake with the lightening on the far side is so surreal, especially as we're about to embark on a 3-8 hour trail run! Around 7:10am the race gets underway; the rain continues to pour down. The first mile is on the road; this helps to thin out the runners - though this morning it seems as if the weather has already done a good job at that. About 5 minutes into the run the lightening is on us and the rain seems to coming down even harder - fortunately there is no hail! Off the road we go into the single track trail through the trees. It's still hard to see in the gloom. We carefully lift up our feet up to avoid any unseen tree roots as we splish splash through all the water on the trail - either in the rapidly deepening puddles that have formed in the hollows or the torrents streaming down the trail. Some runners seem to be extra cautious and I pass them and continue onwards. Someone shouts out "we're now running downhill; I can tell because the water 'on the trail' has changed direction". We all laugh. After about 30 minutes the worst is over, the lightening has mostly finished and the rain isn't coming down quite so hard. The damage has been done though, and where the water didn't immediately drain, the course has become a wet and muddy morass. In the single track much of the trail has drained well, so there is now a mix of puddles, soft muddy morass and a relatively firm, albeit damp running trail. However, as we turn left onto the Jeep Road we see it's all very muddy. I'm glad I have my extra grippy trail running shoes on; others slip and slide more than I do, and I seize the advantage to pass them. There are plenty of puddles, some with unsuspecting and unseen extra deep holes or ridges below the water level. It's a little unnerving, but now that the lightening is over and the rain is quickly clearing, it's becoming a whole lot of fun! Everything is totally wet so what does it matter if you run through the puddles or not; and, so long as you don't hit a hidden hole, it's faster too! Out down the Jeep Road I go to the first aid station, a quick turnaround, and back again along the Jeep Road. This time we know which puddles to be careful of! Amy's crossing is running fast and wide - splash, splash, splash through I go, passing two others who are crossing it much more gingerly! Now we're once again into single track trail with some long parts of good firm running ground. Occasionally we'll hit a muddy morass and there's no real way around it; just need to slow down and make sure the shoes stay on! Soon it's into the 2nd aid station. I stay here a bit longer than the 1st aid station to re-fill the camel back, take 2 endurolytes, have a PB&J sandwich, a pretzel, and a cookie too. Then it's off again - more mud, more puddles, and more good fun running. The "far side" also has the deepest water to cross - up to my calves; again there are a few who try to beat a way through the trees and brush, but not me - straight through again - splash, splash, splash. I'm now taking more walk breaks although less than a rigorous 8:2 regime. As I'm in one of the walk breaks a power walker with a blue rain jacket rushes by - oh if I could only muster to walk at that speed. Little did I know, I'd see him later! Soon it's into the switch back, down to the lake, that's extra high now, and across the footbridges. Careful not to slip and become alligator bait, it's across and back onto terra firma - well terra mudda anyway. Along the lake edge there are several more wet muddy morasses to navigate, but it's soon into the 3rd aid station. I grab a couple of endurolytes, smile for the camera and then off again - no lingering here! Up and onwards I go, for the last 2.8 miles. I catch up with a girl who seems to be having a hard time; as I pass, I tell her "Your mind's gotta tell your body to do it". I push on harder to beat the 3 hour barrier, and soon I'm at the finish line - 2:55 and change; not a particularly fast 25k, but I'm happy given the conditions, and besides it was a huge load of fun! But wait, the day is not over... Time for the massage! Rinse off the legs, off with the shoes, and ah a gentle and relaxing massage. Well, until I got cramp in my toes - off with the socks and huge globs of mud and sand come out too. No wonder my shoes felt lumpy during the run! I get a nice relaxing foot massage followed by stretching of the legs and shoulders. Just as I was about to fall asleep the masseuse says "that's it"; so it's up, find Karen and we're off to the 3rd aid station where we're supposed to be volunteering and support the 50k runners. Shortly after we got to the aid station M&M took off to sweep the course; personally, I think they just wanted fun running in the mud too! I was amazed to find that 25k'ers were still coming through, although a little less so when I found out they'd delayed their start until the strong storm had gone through. And then into the aid station came the man with the blue rain jacket, seemingly somewhat the worse for wear, and just wanting to get back out on the course to finish; off he went. There were long breaks with no one around - then a group of two or three, or another lone runner. Around 7 hours after the race had started M&M return, and we find out there are only a few more runners to come through. About 30 minutes later, the last runner comes through, and we start to dismantle the aid station. Taking the trash to the dumpster I'm stopped by a runner in an SUV, although I don't recognize him now he's all cleaned up; it's the man in with the blue rain jacket, coming back to say thanks and talk awhile. Amongst other anecdotes, he talks about the strangeness of running in warm rain in March compared to the north-west; and once again I'm re-introduced to John M. By this time I was tired and ready to go home, and shortly we're off. Karen as ever bless her sweet heart drives back home. It had been a great day out in the park - running, volunteering, meeting old friends and new, getting wet and muddy, but best of all having Karen there J